


If the Refresher’s a-Rockin'…

by visiblemarket



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Shower Sex, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visiblemarket/pseuds/visiblemarket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s familiar and it isn’t. He’s felt the escalating thrill of contact before, the aching, desperate need for release that comes from it. He’s been close to Poe, but never like this, never been skin to skin, wrapped in his arms, tangled in warm steam and hot water. He’s never been this close to anyone.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	If the Refresher’s a-Rockin'…

**Author's Note:**

> "I'm just going to write a quick, fun, shower sex PWP for [this prompt](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1082.html?thread=259642#cmt259642)," she said, clearly lying to herself.

A familiar orange flightsuit is strewn over the bed when he gets back from lunch, and the room smells powerfully of the soft, sweet scent that Finn’ll sometimes be lucky enough to catch when he nuzzles against the side of Poe’s neck. A familiar voice wafts through the air, carried by the warm steam creeping from the refresher; it sounds strange, somehow, but is no less welcome for it.

Poe's singing, Finn realizes. He’s never heard him do that before, nothing beyond a hum. Finn wants to hear it better, wants to hear it well enough make out the words. He hasn’t heard a lot of songs; music wasn’t precisely _forbidden_ by the First Order but it tended toward the droning and instrumental, and rarely came with stories, at least not ones anyone would want to repeat. He’s heard of love songs, knows of them as the peak of emotional decadence; of rebel chants, as dangerous subversion tactics. Beyond that, as far as he can tell, it all gets a bit complicated. Whatever Poe’s singing about, Finn wants to know.

He approaches the door; the singing continues, low and lovely, but incomprehensible. _Of course_ it’s not in Basic, and of course, in the process of realizing that, he leans a little too heavily on the unlocked door, causing it to creak open.

The singing stops. “Finn?"

“Yeah?” he calls out, lightly, doing his best not to sound like he’s cursing internally, which he most definitely is.

There’s the sound of what might be muffled laughter (great, Poe is laughing at what a nervous fool he is), and then: “You can come in if you want."

Does he? Well, it’s not like he hasn’t seen Poe naked before, or at least, hasn’t seen most parts of him, though not, admittedly, all at once. A couple of weeks sharing a bed before Poe’d been called off on a two-week mission, and they’d gotten as far as drowsy kisses and sloppy hand jobs. And now Poe’s very naked, very wet, waiting for him, probably smiling, and Finn’s the fool clutching the door handle like he’s forgotten how to use it. He hasn’t, and to prove that, to himself if no one else, he opens the door and steps through.

The steam hits him like a hot, headily scented wall, but it's the sight of Poe behind the clear glass panel, flushed red, gleaming wet, sporting more stubble than usual, that roots Finn to the spot.

“Hi,” he manages. “You’re back early,” which is stupid, and obvious, but Poe just smiles at him, blinking water from his eyes.

“I was gonna surprise you!” Poe calls over, pitching his words a little louder than he normally would, just to be heard over the splatter of water against glass and tile.

A nervous laugh burbles out of Finn before he can stop it. “Well,” he says, leaning back against the door, hearing it click shut behind him. “You did.”

Poe grins. “Good surprise?”

“Great surprise,” Finn says, hanging onto the door for dear life: it’s not fair, that Poe can look like that, even with his dark curls plastered to his forehead, even with his chest and arms streaked with soapy lather.

“Come over here?” Poe says, gently, hopefully, and Finn does. When he’s within reach, Poe slides the glass door out of the way.

The shower won't run while the door’s open (something about water conservation, Poe had explained), so the steady stream of water stops instantly. Poe’s dripping wet, though, as he leans out, wraps his hand around the back of Finn’s neck, and kisses him soundly. More desperately than he ever has before, and Finn kisses back, shivering a little as warm water trickles down his spine, reaching out to run his fingers through Poe’s soaked curls, to wrap a hand around Poe’s bicep. Poe sways toward him, tongue lapping gently against Finn’s, wet fingers trailing down along Finn’s chest and tangling in his shirt.

“Shit,” Poe groans apologetically, after more than a few long, sloppy kisses. “I’m getting your clothes all wet, sweetheart."

Poe calls him that sometimes, not just in bed; Finn’s not sure if he knows just how much it drives him crazy, just how much it makes Finn want to grab hold of him and never let go. More than usual, anyway. “Yeah?” he says instead. “Bet there’s something we can do about that.”

Poe blinks at him, and then smirks. “Bet there is,” he says, and reaches for Finn’s belt. Makes quick work of that, pushes down Finn’s pants and his underwear while Finn slips his shirt over his head and then leans a hand against the glass door, holding himself up as he tries toe off his shoes and socks without tripping over anything. He manages with minimal embarrassment, hand slipping slightly against the glass, but finds himself steadied by Poe’s arm around his waist.

He’s just barely naked before he’s being practically swept into the small stall, leaving behind his clothes in a not-so-tidy pile outside. Hears the door slide shut behind him, and the water starts up again immediately; it’s hot, but not scalding, and truth be told, Finn barely notices it. He’s too caught up in the feeling of Poe’s body against his, slick and hot and solid. Poe’s arms twine around him, hands rubbing up and down Finn’s back, as if trying to warm him up, as if Finn’s skin wasn’t already in danger of catching on fire.

“I missed you,” Poe murmurs, sucking at the skin beneath Finn’s ear. His cheeks are rougher than usual against Finn’s neck; Finn finds himself enjoying that. “Thought about you. All the time. Coming home and—” he wraps his hand around both their cocks, giving them a slow, careful pull. “Being with you.”

Finn doesn’t know how to respond to that. In his experience, being missed, or at least, being _absent_ from a place he was supposed to be, had never a good thing; being noticed enough to be thought about had been even worse. But this is a good thing. Poe is a good thing, a great thing, and so is grabbing his shoulders and hauling him in, kissing him as hard as he can. The rotating stream of water raining down on them both almost hits Finn straight in the eye, and he ducks his head, presses his face into Poe’s neck.

Poe hums happily and guides Finn back against the wall, pins him between the solid, wet warmth of Poe’s body and the cooler, slick surface of the shower stall.

“Okay?” Poe murmurs, because he always asks, and maybe one day Finn’ll find it tiresome but for now he’s just glad for the chance to nod, to drop his lips to the side of Poe’s throat and suck at the spot he knows Poe likes. Poe slides his arms around Finn in response, leaving their cocks nestled together, and gives a slow, instructive roll of his hips. Finn gets the picture, meets each roll of Poe’s hips with a steady thrust of his own. Follows Poe’s rhythm, at first, getting used to the feeling; their cocks rubbing up against each, friction smoothed by the warm water and the remnants of Poe’s soap.

It’s familiar and it isn’t: he’s jerked Poe off before, he’s felt Poe’s hand and mouth around his cock. He’s felt the escalating thrill of contact, the aching, desperate need for release that comes from it. He’s been _close_ to Poe, but never like this, never been skin to skin, wrapped in his arms, tangled in warm steam and hot water. He’s never been this close to anyone before.

Finn quickens his rhythm; Poe matches him, breathes heavily into his ear. Finn turns his head just enough to nuzzle at his hair, and gets a nose full of water for his efforts.

“C’mere,” he chokes, pushing away from the shower wall and taking Poe with him, turning them till he’s got Poe against the glass door. He pulls back for a moment, checking in like he knows Poe would, but he only gets as far as catching a glimpse of Poe’s wide, surprised grin, before Poe leans up to kiss him again, throwing an arm around Finn’s neck and dragging him in.

The pace accelerates between them; Poe ruts against him so quickly, so desperately, that Finn is struck by the sudden urge to pick him up. He could do it, he thinks; Poe’s solid, not light by any means, but Finn’s strong, strong enough to carry him. He slides his hands down Poe’s chest, fingers dragging through the soft hair, the trembling skin, as he considers wrapping his hands under Poe’s thighs and hoisting him up.

Poe’s forehead drops to Finn’s shoulder, and it’s around then that Finn notices the beeping, just barely, over the rush of the water pouring over him and splashing against the slick wall beside them, over Poe’s panting, urgent breaths into his ear.

“Wha—what _is_ that?"

Poe moans, still shuddering against him. “Five minutes,” he mumbles, and Finn’s mind races irrationally: five minutes till what? Till the base explodes? Till Poe has to rush off, jump in his x-wing, and fly away again? Finn’s not sure what he dreads more. “Till the — _mm_ —till the water cuts off. W— _water_ cons regs. Uh.”

“You’ve gotta…you’ve gotta be _kidding_ me,” Finn gasps, but it makes sense. He groans in frustration. “Well, you better come—” and Poe does, splattering across Finn’s stomach, sliding against his cock. “—soon?” Finn finishes, weakly.

Poe chuckles warmly into his neck and curls an arm across Finn's back, wraps a that palm around Finn's shoulder. His other hand drops between them, starts jerking Finn off again. Quick, steady strokes — down to business, twisting his wrist just right. _Show off_ , Finn thinks, even as he presses his forearm against the glass door, above Poe’s head, to give himself the leverage he needs to thrust into Poe’s grip.

“That’s it, honey,” Poe practically purrs; Finn feels it as much as he hears it, anyway, vibrating between them. “That’s it. _God_ ,” he hums, and Finn finds himself rocking onto his toes, chasing Poe's grip. “God, you’re so _good_ , sweetheart, so—” Finn chokes out a gasp, and his knees go weak, leaving him to collapse in an inelegant, soaked slump against Poe’s body. His cock twitches in Poe’s hand, coating his fingers and streaking his stomach with come.

“You’re gonna need another shower,” he says, weakly, into Poe’s shoulder, and the water above them cuts off, as if on cue.

Poe laughs, lightly, and rubs tenderly at Finn’s back. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Smell better than I did before, at least.”

“Mmm,” Finn manages, inhaling; he smells mostly of water, right now, with hints of soap. Finn draws back a little, wanting to get a look at him. It’s a mistake: Poe's hair is soggy and flat, dripping into his eyes, his cheeks are bright red under the stubble, and his lips are, somehow, even redder. They curve into a small, satisfied smile. Finn’s brain shorts. He casts about, desperately, for something else to say. “What was that you were singing? Before I—before?”

“Oh,” Poe’s cheeks flush even redder, and drops of water quiver on his eyelashes as he blinks. “Uh. I didn’t—Just something my grandfather used to sing to me. It’s—it’s about a whisper bird making her way back to her—making her way back home.”

“Huh,” says Finn; seems like a strange thing to write a song about. He’s not even entirely sure what a whisper bird is, except that he probably couldn’t eat it and that it probably wouldn’t eat him. The First Order’s lessons about the fauna and flora of the universe tended to stop there.

Poe shakes his head, laughing at himself. “Don’t even know why I—don’t even know why I was thinking about that today.”

“I liked it,” Finn says, definitively. “What I heard of it, I mean.”

Poe’s smile softens, and his hand squeezes lightly at Finn’s hip. “I’ll have to sing the rest of it for you, sometime,” he says, eyes brimming with affection, and Finn can’t help darting in to give him another wet kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. So a bathroom in _Star Wars_ is called a [refresher](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Refresher), and "[If this van's a-rockin', don't come knockin'](http://www.amazon.com/rockin-knockin-Large-Bumper-Sticker/product-reviews/B0002U7042)" was a VERY CLASSY bumper sticker back in the 70s. Also, alliteration is fun. Hence, the title of this work.
> 
> 2\. There's a fair number of Latin American songs that are ostensibly about birds ([usually](http://morethanonepage.tumblr.com/post/136527210547/tejanx-ramplings-oscar-isaac-sings-caetano) [doves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLv0htHm4dE), but [some others](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wHKVByjCKE)), but not really. 
> 
> 3\. A [whisper bird](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Whisper_bird) is, hand to god, a _golden geese_ type creature that live on Yavin 4. Their flight formations are kind of randomly mentioned in Poe's segment of _Before the Awakening_ , leading me to the inevitable conclusion that Poe Dameron is something of a Bird Nerd.


End file.
